


Free Range

by likeiloveyouforpussies



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Non-Linear Narrative, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeiloveyouforpussies/pseuds/likeiloveyouforpussies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nonlinear, episodic snapshots about Piper and Alex's time at Litchfield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Insane

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my hand at the prison thing!

A week had passed since it had first happened, and she still hadn’t been able to decide whether she had actually lost her mind or if this was a way of preventing precisely that. She had certainly lost it when they’d locked her up in that windowless, hermetic cell - that prison within a prison. She had really believed that they had tossed away the key, that the earth would swallow her, and that the world would sooner or later forget about her. The fact that one could simply do such a thing, on a whim, without justification, had been the final straw on a rather long list of powerless situations, and she had snapped. Because what was the difference, really, between putting one’s head down, doing one’s best to follow every single rule in the book as well as all the additional unofficial ones, and getting away with doing whatever the hell one wanted, if the results could be equally random?

When she gave her mind free range to think about it, all she got was a twisted combination of facts one could turn into reasons: she’d had every scrap of control stolen from her; she’d been entirely isolated, with the exception of a perhaps imaginary neighbor, which wasn’t at all reassuring; there was the matter of the consequences to one’s actions being arbitrary - not even repenting made a difference; and finally, the desperation of needing to feel something close to alive. It hadn’t taken her long to feel like she was fading away. When they’d released her from her confinement, there had been nothing remotely corporal about her. She’d felt dissolved, like a mist, with the fear of evaporating in thin air, understanding that one’s greatest danger in such a place was to lose oneself, that everybody was fighting for their sense of self with themselves - as well as with countless others who were battling for the same thing. And that was very hard, since prison was a realm devoid of context, the opposite of the outside world. She guessed that that was why lots of those women appeared to be so extreme - were they just intense versions of themselves? Could that be a somewhat unconscious strategy?

What she knew for sure was that living without a context was turning out to be particularly difficult for her. She had started to realize how badly she needed one, how lost she felt without that safety net, and how much worse it would be without her people’s visits. If her sense of normalcy depended on a life she had chosen for herself, how could she remain serene without it? How was she supposed to not start bouncing off corners?

That dissolving sensation had only intensified as she’d re-entered the prison building after being released from the SHU. It reinforced the idea that everything was arbitrary, and showed her that life, as it were, had continued as usual without her. And then everything that she’d been trying to balance between her hands since God knew when, had just collapsed and shattered like an internal, gigantic pile of plates.

  

* * *

 

Piper started walking faster down the corridor, in a determined, unstoppable way, both deaf and blind to everything and everyone around her. She was greeted by Nichols upon entering the block, but that had barely registered, not with her mind in such a disengaged state. She walked directly to Alex’s bunk, ignored the woman’s proclamations of joy, and told her “Let’s get out of here” with a tone which called no bullshit because it came straight from within, unfiltered. Grasping the woman’s hand to make sure that she’d been walking with her and to avoid having to deliver any explanation whatsoever, Piper led a somewhat worried and quite confused Alex to one of the very few places in Litchfield where one wasn’t under the millimetric supervision of everyone’s prying eyes and the guards’ constant scolding.

Everybody knew about the chapel, there was a common, unspoken understanding about it, and if she had found somebody else already there, she wouldn’t have had any qualms about running them off, such was the state she was in. Her mind, if it was at all functional, was completely focused and totally unreachable by tiny details like Alex’s questions. It was all white noise to her anyway, because wasn’t just that she wished to feel something real, but there was also the pressing necessity of feeling real herself.

The brunette hadn’t yet understood, as proven by her uncertain smile and her questioning of what they were doing there. But Piper was dead serious, and God knew what she looked like, because she made Alex’s smile fade without having to utter a damn word. In that moment, Alex seemed to understand, and looked deep into her eyes, answering a wordless question, or solving a lingering doubt, and Piper required no further encouragement. She lunged forward, seized the woman’s head between her hands, and pulled her close. Alex echoed the gesture, cradling her head while their mouths crashed together, messily breaking through the years, bursting across the guilt, the things unsaid, and every single kind of distance. Their bodies collided into a feverish whirlwind of hair and want, both equally desperate to feel more, their hands stubbornly striving to take each other’s shirts off at the same time.

The fact that Piper didn’t want to break the kiss was only making matters more complicated technically, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that she had found a long lost sensation of abandon, a floating sensation in the mouth of her stomach, a flood of desire rushing through her veins.

They lost their footing sometime during their aggressive tug-o-war with their clothes, collapsing on the wooden floor with a couple of dull thuds. Alex raised her head to check up on her, but Piper hadn’t felt a thing; she was too focused on crawling over the woman’s body. She climbed the mountains of Alex’s curves, dragging her lips and tongue over her skin, with all her senses sharp as knives, updating the maps that were still stored somewhere inside her brain. She swallowed the taste of Alex like a returning addict and buried her nose between her breasts, breathing in the recognizable scent she had merely sampled when she had furtively smelled her pillow. Now it intoxicated her, as she pushed away Alex’s bra and dove into her breasts, making the woman under her gasp and squirm.

The blonde needed more, however, and, incapable as she was of wasting any time with subtleties, she pulled down Alex’s pants and underwear just enough to give her hand easy access. However, she had to pause as soon as her fingertips pressed on the woman’s damp lips; for a moment, all she could do was grunt against Alex’s neck. She was amazed by how well she remembered that body, how good it felt, and how it awakened her own body. When she tilted her head upwards to look into Alex’s gleaming eyes, the brunette cupped her face and kissed her, sucking and biting on her lower lip like she used to do whenever she wished to drive her insane.

But Piper already felt insane. She was fighting to control just one goddamn thing in her life, so she shoved her tongue into Alex’s mouth and sunk her fingers between the woman’s folds, overpowering her. It stunned her how hot her center was, how welcoming, her fingers becoming instantly coated with a layer of slick wetness.

Using her own thigh to push her fingers inside the woman, Piper then reached for Alex’s hand and guided it under the hem of her pants, unceremoniously shoving it between her own legs and being very obvious about what she desired. The blonde acknowledged that she too was very wet, judging by the ease with which Alex’s fingers were moving against her, and how badly she wanted them inside her. With their moans blending halfway between their joined mouths, she then allowed herself to get lost in the sensations brought on by that pure pleasure, with the instinctual bucking of her hips freely dictating the duration and depth of the contact.

Her free hand closed around a bunch of black hair, eliminating her support and causing her to collapse on top of the woman with her entire weight. She suddenly became more aware of the brunette’s fluid movements underneath her, and so increased her speed, eliciting an immediate response in the form of a muffled cry. The brunette broke the kiss roughly, bringing a hand up to her hair much like Piper had done and muttering several incoherencies, of which the only comprehensible word was “fucking”. Piper gathered that the woman didn’t want her to stop, and she really had no intention of doing such a thing, not yet. Finding Alex’s lips with her own again, she felt her body starting to grow faint, dangerously light, as she began to escalate the steep curve she used to know so well, slowly at first, but then urgently, eager to get to its ridge and make the instant last for an eternity.

Feeling like she was about to burst over the brunette like a water balloon, Piper released Alex’s hair and grasped her hand tightly, entwining their fingers. It seemed to be precisely what the woman needed at that exact moment, for she came abruptly, shaking frantically and whimpering into her mouth.  And the bare expression of Alex’s release seemed to be just what Piper needed, because she came barely seconds later, and came hard, ripped in half by a lightning-shaped current.

The brunette surrounded her waist with one arm, while the other stroked her cheek, her temple, combing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Piper remained motionless, with her eyes firmly shut and her breath still ragged, counting down from ten while pretending that they didn’t need to move sooner rather than later, that Alex could indeed hold her perpetually. Overcome as she was by the crisscrossing currents of the past and the present, she felt as if she was floating in limbo; they had indeed managed to get out of prison for a short while.

“We should go,” Alex said, placing her finger under Piper’s chin and kissing her gently.

Nodding, the blonde sat up and then stood shakily, trying to rearrange her clothes with unresponsive hands. Her eyes were cloudy, as if everything was surrounded by fog, and she realized that she hadn’t yet come down completely from that mind-blowing high.

 


	2. The Silent Treatment

With her eyes fixed on the screen and pretending to be enthralled by the shitty program, the dark-haired woman waited. She didn’t usually roam that specific area of the prison, since she certainly wasn’t there to socialize and couldn’t feel more indifferent about TV in general; however, she had observed that Piper did pop in on occasion to chat or play Scrabble, so that was reason enough to linger there. It wasn’t like Alex didn’t have plenty of time to waste; in fact, that was all she possessed now - too much of it.

She had been the kind of inmate who had tried to mind her own business instead of forming bonds and making friends or allies, sticking to her books and her bunk… until Piper’s arrival. That had changed everything. Alex had immediately spotted the yellow signal of her hair across the cafeteria even before the striking orange scrubs, so noticeable among a bleak ocean of mostly beige and grey, but she had kept her distance while she gathered her guts. Not being able to face Piper without some preparation had irritated her, as well as the fact that she had been motivated to approach the blonde when it looked like she’d been at the brink of having a nervous breakdown. Because despite what Piper had done to her in the past, Alex couldn’t bear to see her suffer, meaning that she still made her weak after such a long time. And yet the blonde’s reaction upon finding out that they had ended up in the same prison had been less than enthusiastic, and she had been playing the role of the offended party, which was utter bullshit.

Simply put, she’d wanted Piper to see her, and she had been running into her deliberately now and then, because she knew how her mind worked, and that she would try to pretend that Alex wasn’t even there. More bullshit. One didn’t even need to take into account Piper’s quasi-panic attack after Alex had first tried to greet her to tell that she still had some kind of effect over her. It was plain as day to anyone who cared to use their eyes -as proven by Nichols’s blatant interrogation-, although, truth be told, what else was there to do in prison besides staring at one another and judging thy neighbor?

The brunette had given up on direct communication after the pie-throwing incident, because fuck her and her slobbering, basket case, self-appointed bodyguard of a prison wife. And fuck her even more for playing the role of the offended party, like she had been forced to do all those things. Alex certainly wasn’t there to be shat on, so she had defended herself tooth and nail during their encounter in the bathroom, saying what needed to be said, which incidentally didn’t include the truth about having landed her in prison. Confessing wouldn’t have helped Alex’s case at all, but she had been sincere in every other respect, and it had been the first time they had really spoken inside that horrid hellhole. If she had to be completely honest -the three A.M., slightly drunk, lying in bed awake, draped in complete darkness kind of honest-, Alex had to admit that she’d wanted Piper to like her again, something radically incompatible with the knowledge that she had ratted her out in exchange for less prison time.

For a minute there in that bathroom, she’d believed that the blonde would just go on ignoring her snarky remarks as before. That was why she had informed her of her bathroom schedule and why she’d let her eyes roam Piper’s naked legs shamelessly - the latter with the mission of making her as uncomfortable as possible. Surprisingly, the girl had openly confronted her, blaming her for everything and once again mentioning the perfect little life she was missing because of her. It had been a double-faced offense for Alex since, on the one hand, Piper was telling her that she had been doing more than okay without her (although Alex was convinced that it was nothing but a safe front) and, on the other hand, she was trampling on their past relationship when she had been the one to leave.

Her fingers curled into a fist - the only outward indication of the tension within. No one in that damn prison could’ve judged her as anything but a tough yet laid-back woman watching TV. She was perfectly capable of spending her entire sentence without ever freaking out or losing her shit, with or without antidepressants, but knowing that Piper was around made her nervous. As ridiculous as it was, it was also unavoidable, just like purposely running into her to remind the girl of her presence and that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Sure enough, Piper entered the room several minutes later, just when the TV program had started listing what they’d considered to be the best beaches in the world. Well, fuck that. Alex could compile a much better collection out of the ones they’d visited all those years ago.

A single glance sufficed for her to see that the blonde was wearing that wide-eyed, frank expression of hers. So the prison hadn’t yet consumed it completely, Alex noted, returning her attention to the screen. She listened to her talking to Morello and two of the kitchen workers -the midget and the mute one- about spotting a chicken in the yard while she was reading and having her coffee, which was… weird as fuck. Unable to help herself, Alex turned her head once more to look at the blonde, wondering if the girl was starting to lose it, despite her obvious attempts to keep her mind in a Zen-like state. However, judging by the other women’s instantaneous and frenzied reaction, urging Piper to go tell Red, that shit had to be real.

Even so, Alex made a mental note to check up on Piper a bit more often, because it had already been established that the blonde hadn’t lost her innate ability to get herself into trouble. It would only make the blonde rebuff her further, but it couldn’t be helped. She still was the only person that Alex knew in that stupid fucking place, but that wasn’t the real reason. Having learned a long time ago that all she had and all she could count on was herself, the brunette knew that she shouldn’t fabricate comforting lies to reassure her mind and justify her actions - something which, incidentally, Piper did all the time. It was what it was. In this case, the truth being that Piper’s presence affected her and made her want to hover around her, because she had become real once again, solid, and not just a diffused entity in her brain. And so, Alex concluded wryly, it seemed that she couldn’t let high school be high school.

 

* * *

 

Oh this was priceless, Piper telling her that there were no hard feelings. Alex kept folding stuff as the blonde spewed out her load of crap. And yet, even after all the rejection she had been receiving, she found it hard to keep a straight face and not smile at Piper’s peculiar notion of an apology. No, that wasn’t even an apology, but an attempt at smoking the proverbial peace pipe, when Alex had done nothing warlike in nature. She certainly would have, though, if she hadn’t been the one to name Piper, but that was something she couldn’t change, and wouldn’t have changed it either, to tell the truth. Because they were now confined in the same shared space, and having Piper there was of course better than not having her, even in her previous state of animosity, because Alex was positive that the mutual spark between them had survived the years and the heartbreak. It was still there. Piper was only capable of suppressing it because she had something that the brunette lacked -a great dose of justified anger-, and was surely holding on to it for dear life, lest she let her barriers down.

Luckily, the girl was too busy looking down while explaining herself to see that Alex was grinning. By the time Piper dared to look her in the eye, expecting some kind of response, her features had gone back to being stern. But fuck that, and fuck her offer of being friends, which definitely stung more than it should. Alex didn’t know what had motivated the blonde to climb down her precious high horse, but she had spent those several weeks treating her like a fucking leper and only recently trying to engage her in an eager, almost pathetic way, so Alex wasn’t about to absolve her of the silent treatment right away, if only because _she_ wanted to be the one to say when.

 


	3. Adaptation

The important thing was to keep things simple, like Larry had advised her, and do her time with her head set on what was waiting for her outside, her goals, instead of being absorbed by the soap opera of insanity that was perpetually going on behind those walls. But it was difficult for her not to get involved in her surroundings, and besides, how else was she supposed to adapt? Of course, Larry would answer that she didn’t _need_ to adapt, which would only confirm that he knew nothing about prison. Adaptation was everything; it meant survival.

Her brain was incapable of working in a straight line anyway, however hard she tried to make it submit to her will, so she was doing the best she could with what she had. She often envisioned her mind as a TV set transmitting a myriad of channels on a loop, and all she could do was flick through them with an imaginary remote control -thought after thought, voice after voice, face after face-, quickly discarding ones, lingering on others, but feeling no different than a powerless hamster on a wheel, because they would all come back sooner or later. Unavoidably, plenty of those ever-returning thoughts had to do with a certain dark-haired woman, and not just because they were now seeing each other more often -since the brunette had struck up a kind of friendship with Nichols and Morello-, but mainly because of the recent knowledge that Alex hadn’t been the one to name her - meaning that _she_ was the asshole, not Alex. Consequently, Piper found that she couldn’t reach out for her angry safeguard anymore; the barrier of resentment strategically placed between them had dissolved, and that was a problem.

Without having to remind herself of how much she despised Alex, her eyes now considered themselves licensed to do more than give the brunette a passing glance. However, she was impaired by how much of a jerk she felt. Her attempts at approaching Alex had been calamitous at best, and she had actually started to wonder if the silent spell would ever end.

It seemed like business as usual when she and Nichols went down to the laundry room with the intention of fixing one of the dryers (they were always breaking down from overuse, the old things). Alex was there, folding and stacking a bunch of clean sheets, and she and Nichols started teasing each other from the get-go, like it came completely natural to them, while Piper remained on the sidelines without opening her mouth - not that she would’ve dared to anyway, since Nichols’s banter had turned very sexually aggressive very soon, however playful it intended to be. Clutching the instruction manuals against her chest and feeling schoolgirly and deeply uncomfortable, the blonde wished for the ground to open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole. Both Nichols’s abruptness and Alex’s easiness at responding could only mean that they had been spending time together, maybe more than she had imagined, and whatever that coziness meant, it only enhanced their own alienation and silence.

Whether due to a miracle or because Nichols had gone too far with her porno pantomime, Alex cut her off, directing their attention towards the broken machine, for which Piper was grateful. It turned out that she had given her thanks too soon, though, since Norma chose that moment to appear and take Nichols away, having been summoned by the all-powerful Red.

“Come on!” Nichols spat out at the mute woman as they left the laundry room, urging her on.

The blonde fidgeted with the utility belt, which Nichols had handed her before leaving. Being left alone with Alex was hardly an improvement. It meant not having to listen to their dirty jokes, but it would also entail more of that silent hostility she had been receiving lately. Great. She just needed to concentrate on the job, shut off everything, and do her best to ignore… Wait a second. As she snapped shut the heavy, tool-sprouted belt, she noticed that Alex was suddenly closer -very close, actually-, and her expression… there was something different about it. It was still playful, of course, because this was Alex and there _had_ to be some teasing involved, but there was also a glint in her eyes, a stupid smile on her lips, and no bitterness whatsoever.

Piper just looked at her, because what else could she do, having retracted into herself for her own protection and now encountering this… this Alex, who was gazing at her so bluntly. What was going on?

“You don’t look half bad in those,” the brunette said, without losing eye contact.

She almost smiled back, almost, because she felt the jolt that came with surprise at the unexpected proximity and half-compliment, coupled with the warmth of familiarity. Yes, she had seen that face before, years ago, and heard that tone, linking them to many times in which Alex had both wished to ogle at her and make her flush. But that was then and this was now, and the brunette was enjoying this way too much, judging from her widening smile.

“Thanks,” Piper said, grabbing the instruction manuals hurriedly and spinning around to look for the busted dryer and hide her stupid giddiness.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Alex called after her, because she couldn’t stop, could she?  And yet Piper wondered if it was a fitting question after all, before shaking her head and pushing the thought away.

 

* * *

 

Snapping out of her sleepwalker state, the blonde entered the laundry room, carrying the obese, net-like bag full of clothes. Alex was miraculously alone, sorting through a bunch of tangled sheets. She had rolled up the short sleeves of her white t-shirt in a clear effort to combat the inherent heat of her workplace, although there was little one could do against those monstrous, vapor-breathing machines.

“Hey,” Piper said gently, so as not to startle her.

The dark-haired woman turned around, wearing her own version of that look of detached displeasure which every inmate seemed to have rehearsed to perfection. However, her expression changed upon recognizing who it was. Piper identified the warmth of old, as well as the devilish smile, forming a combination which -if one wished to be simplistic- could be Alex in a nutshell: tenderness and mischief rolled into one.

And Piper couldn’t deny that she liked simple - perhaps now more than ever. Part of her knew that having slept with Alex could only complicate her life even more, but whenever that nagging thought appeared, she changed the channel at once, because the thing which had the potential of compromising her future was precisely what was simplifying her present and getting her through the day. So she’d managed to make her brain stop at that; whenever it attempted to take the thought further, Piper merely changed the channel again. And it was easy, sometimes shockingly so, because in prison the future was just like the imaginary pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and moving towards it was like standing on an eternal conveyor belt with the same background images on repeat . It didn’t feel like moving at all.

“Hey yourself,” Alex called back, immediately dropping what she had between her hands and walking around the table to meet her. “I see you’ve come bearing gifts.”

The blonde glanced at her dirty laundry and shrugged, but Alex apparently meant something else, for she snatched her wrist and pushed her against the metal fence which separated them from the dryers.

“Wait, what if…?” Piper began, dropping her bag and grasping on to Alex’s t-shirt for balance. What if someone saw them? What if they got caught? With the other woman’s taller body completely blocking her view, those were valid questions, surely. There was also the fence, which was starting to dig into her back, and yet the most baffling thing of all was Alex herself - having Alex pressed against her, with one hand cupping her cheek and the other roaming her body over her clothes.

“Alex,” she hissed, once more trying to warn the woman.

“I know,” said the brunette, quickly glancing over both her shoulders before bowing her head and capturing Piper’s lips into a wet, searing kiss.

As her fingers closed around Alex’s black hair, every thought and worry in her mind dissolved. She was only aware of their mouths opening up to each other and closing around each other, and Alex’s tongue searching for hers in the heat. It ended too soon, however, with a tiny, lingering peck.

“We’ll have to think of something, huh?” the brunette asked, raising one eyebrow.

With every cell in her body awakened, the only answer she could offer at the moment was a nod. Feeling dizzy, Piper picked her laundry bag from the floor, set it on the table, and turned to leave. She could sense Alex’s stare and self-satisfied smile on the back of her neck as she walked away, with her knees shaking and very aware of the growing wetness between her legs.


	4. Like Christmas

The cardboard box had already been opened and examined by the guards, of course, as they invariably did with every single piece of mail, but fuck it, receiving it had felt like Christmas anyway. She dipped her hand into the box, pulled out the last volume, and smelled its pages before putting it with the other arrivals. At least there was that to look forward to, the regular flow of new books. It had been a very long time since she’d needed to use literature for escapism instead of a distraction or just for aesthetic pleasure, but it was reassuring to confirm that the printed word could still do its thing.

The illusion of inner peace was a delicate thing, she guessed, like trying to keep a bubble from popping, but it was essential to have one, or how else was she supposed to survive this place? Forget counseling and antidepressants -shit designed to dumb her down and keep her meek, nodding and dozing through her sentence-; she was used to the rush of life, but the rush of fiction would have to do for the moment.

There was also the rush of Piper, sure, but that was different. Always irritatingly different, Alex mused, as she went to chuck the empty cardboard box. There was yet so much to be determined in that respect that “the Piper Question” was an untouchable subject. Nichols had tried to make her talk about it a couple of times, but Alex had only responded with vagueness, both because she didn’t wish to share that part of herself, and because she felt like she couldn’t. It had been buried in the deepest, most recondite corner of her heart, and it still managed to make her entire body ache sometimes. So now that they were on speaking terms after the dryer incident (at least something good had come out of that fucking meth head’s prank, although she wasn’t going to forget what that fucking residue of a human being had done), she wasn’t planning on crushing the single thing she had going on for her. For starters, it had been tricky enough to get the blonde to treat her like a fucking human being all over again, and she didn’t want to lose that, even if they weren’t neither here nor there, essentially dancing around each other.

While she returned to her bunk, she noted that the stiffness she’d been feeling on her back all day had increased and spread to her shoulders and her arms. What was up with that? It couldn’t be just because she’d been sitting inside a great, big fucking dryer for a considerable amount of time, could it? This was something else, she concluded, as she felt her eyes beginning to haze and her nose getting itchy.

“Oh fuck,” she muttered between her teeth, realizing that the flu bug had got her after all.

 

* * *

 

They had agreed that it needed to be just before the breakfast rush hour, when everyone was on the verge of being at their busiest and radiating from their cubes to the showers, to the cafeteria. No one would miss them if they disappeared for a short while, and they’d be eating breakfast before anyone noticed. There’d been no need for convincing, since Piper had already demonstrated her hunger eloquently enough by pulling her into that chapel.

For a moment, Alex had been really concerned about her. She’d recalled when they’d released Watson from the SHU, how she and Nichols had spotted her relishing her first moments outside, arms spread out and head thrown back. Although Nichols had automatically judged it as an overreaction, Alex hadn’t forgotten that image when they’d thrown Piper into the SHU. And the blonde’s face upon being released had been an otherwise blank mask of weird determination, which had finally exploded -to Alex’s relief- into something she was able to understand. It had been cooking slowly for weeks, really, whether Piper wanted to admit it or not, although she wouldn’t have bet on it happening that way, getting fucked by Piper in a whirlwind of lust.

As she navigated towards their meeting place, Alex reflected on the fact that Piper had already concocted an excuse for doing this as a regular thing before even engaging in it, which was just her way of dealing -not dealing- with stuff; or, if the justification didn’t come before the action, it would simply be fabricated later - no biggie. Something like: life in prison was unbearable, they needed comfort, they needed human contact, yada yada yada, whatever. Alex rolled her eyes, because here she was again, with her mind reluctantly returning to its default position of attempting to disentangle Piper’s threads, and she couldn’t help it.

The brunette checked her surroundings before quickly entering the utility closet and closing the door behind her. It was but a tiny, dimly-lit room which smelled of cleaning products, and yet it became her favorite place in the world as soon as the door opened and in came Piper.

“Hey.”

“Alex?”

“Well… yeah. Who else, the faun from fucking Narnia?” she shook her head and laughed quietly.

“I don’t know! I don’t know how this is supposed to work. What if we need to, you know, grab a number?”

Even in the semi-darkness, Alex noticed that the blonde was gesturing wildly, and was sorry for her agitation, although it was understandable; she was feeling stupidly giddy herself, but there was always something they could do with that output of energy, she mused, taking off her glasses.

“Pipes?”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

She reached around the blonde’s shoulders and pulled her close, finding her lips and seamlessly melting into them. Wasn’t it funny, how effortlessly one could get used to something and immediately start needing it, as if one had any right to feel entitled? Even without expectations -because expectations were a thing of the future, and the future was nowhere in sight-, it was dead easy to fall back into decade-old habits. And being cerebral could be easy enough in other circumstances, but not now. Now, her brain was just a horny, thawing pile of mush, and Alex was only thankful for the sensation.

Her hand slipped under Piper’s jumper and moved up the soft skin of her back. It was a shame that time was of the essence, but hey, she was not complaining. Gently pushing the blonde into the corner to move away from the door’s translucent glass, Alex then hooked her fingers under the hem of Piper’s pants and pulled them down, taking her underwear with them and kneeling down before her. She kissed down the woman’s stomach, swiftly fidgeting with her shoelaces so that she could take off one of her boots and ease her out of the left leg of her pants.

With her arms splayed against the wall for support, Piper raised her free leg and rested it on Alex’s shoulder, and the brunette delivered a single kiss on the inside of her thigh before giving her center a long, slow lick with the flat of her tongue. She felt a grunt of surprise catch in her throat as the familiarity of the woman’s taste stunned her, but that didn’t last more than a second, for it ignited a desire for more. Her mouth closed around Piper’s lips, sucking on them while her tongue dipped between them easily, smoothly drawing circles around her clit, getting coated in the blonde’s own wetness.

“Oh God,” Piper whispered, starting to shiver from head to toe and unknowingly making Alex smile, because it had always been one of her favorite things, making Piper’s agnostic ass automatically religious with a single, simple touch.

She wished to tell Piper how fucking amazing she felt, but knew that any loss of contact would make the blonde furious, so she contented herself with moaning against her clit, working it faster, making her back arch away from the wall, and making every single nerve so tense and ready for release that Alex herself almost came by association. She glanced up at the writhing woman, noting that the only reason why she couldn’t hear her screaming was because she’d been sensible enough to cover her mouth with both hands.

With a muffled groan, Piper bucked her hips one last time, losing her balance and unintentionally knocking down a mop.

“Shit!” Alex hissed, managing to catch before it hit the ground. “That was close.”

Alex felt Piper’s fingers closing around her hair, pulling at it gently to make her lift her head. The blonde was looking at her with what Alex guessed were bedroom eyes, which made her raise her eyebrows. She was about to get up from the floor when Piper knelt down, half-straddling her. What the…? Alex’s surprised giggle was cut short by Piper’s lips, kissing her with a startling surge of desire. However, someone had to be the voice of reason here, as bothersome as that was.

“Pipes, wait, I don’t think there’s time…”

“We’ll make time.”

The seriousness in her voice made her shut up at once. She realized that they had stolen back a bit of their own time, stolen it from those who had confiscated it and who wanted them to just vegetate and do nothing with it. As Piper kissed her again, she understood that they were managing to get away with it, transforming little bits of dull, shapeless time into life, into brightness, into actual feeling.


	5. Vigil

One never got to be completely alone, and it was hardly ever quiet, not even at night. With so many people around, if it wasn’t one who coughed it was another who snored, or sighed into the shadows, or sniffled, or murmured in her sleep. Piper used to lay awake in her bunk bed and count the seconds of silence, gloating in every one like they were the most valuable thing in her possession, golden fragments of peace. But too soon the cycle of noises would start all over again, and she’d be left picking loose strings off her blanket, putting up with that Chinese water torture until it had occurred to her to get crafty and fabricate some earplugs.

Now it was just her and her silent vigil. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that she was in her bed back home -the double bed at Larry’s place-, tucked into the comfy, nest-like, covers instead of curled up under that single coarse blanket. It was difficult to maintain the illusion for long, which was frustrating, and moreover, she occasionally found some details hard to remember, which contributed to the fragility of her fantasy. This didn’t make her feel guilty, but scared, because what if it meant that the prison world was taking over her reality? Larry had called it a fishbowl, which was terribly accurate; what if there came a moment in which she could no longer stick out her head to breathe? That was why she needed her regular phone calls and visiting hours. Outside she didn’t need to be reminded of who she was or who she was supposed to be, but here… It was tricky. It often felt like walking around a blank canvas, only this one wasn’t white, but monochrome beige.

Once unleashed, her mind sometimes wandered to memories of a different bed, the only other one she had shared with someone and considered hers: Alex’s gorgeous canopied bed back in her sophisticated loft. Not that this mental picture was more accurate than the other, because in fact it wasn’t; it had been a long time ago and her memories were hazier, but if she managed to hold them tight and didn’t let them slip between her fingers like sand, Piper could rescue sensations, if not complete images. She felt the bed’s warm middle ground, where they would come together every night, where their roaming hands used to find each other, where she’d been safest. Was it the bed, though, or the person she’d shared it with?

Piper wondered if Alex was awake as well. When she thought about it, it struck her as completely bizarre that they had ended up living under the same roof, so to speak. Particularly at night, when she lay staring at the ceiling, knowing that it was plausible that the brunette was doing the same thing, perhaps even remembering something from their common past.

“We don’t talk,” she’d told Larry when he’d asked about Alex, and they didn’t, but it still felt as if they were two planets sharing an orbit, and that was something he wouldn’t be able to understand, so there was no point in trying to explain. He was on the outside; he’d remained on another, much wider orbit. Impaired by the distance, he could only aspire to catch glimpses of what she was going through, despite Piper’s frequent descriptions, although most of them were merely bits and pieces and false starts, since there was too much contextual background to explain. He couldn’t grasp it, and yet he’d felt confident enough to think about writing an article about her - well, about the both of them, about _their_ parallel experience. How about that, the considerate writer and his drug-money-carrier convict fiancée? Oh, she really hoped that wasn’t it.

 

* * *

 

They took turns in drinking from the plastic bottle, passing it around until they’d consumed its last drop. It was a respectable amount of liquor even between the lot of them, particularly for people who were no longer used to drinking. And besides, it wasn’t exactly Pinot Grigio either; whatever it was made of, it burned going down, and had a very strong taste, which Alex had tried to combat by eating oranges.

The apparent cathartic powers of the hooch had led them down all the stages of grief and back, until there only remained the pleasant, simple buzz of inebriation. It toned everything down, and made them giggle at one another’s flushed faces, even if it couldn’t erase the truth that a young girl had left the prison inside a body bag. Piper realized that she’d been trying to give things structure, to mold something which was unmalleable. Alex had been right in her assertion that she’d never been good at dealing with emotional chaos; her knee-jerk reaction had been to put it inside a neat, little box and call it “untangling” - planning a memorial service and assuming that everybody else would want that too because it supposedly was the suitable thing to do.

When life gave a turn towards the messy, her instinct had always told her to swerve in the opposite direction, but that had been outside, where there was no shortage of roads, of options. Avoidance wasn’t as easy here, though, since everyone was essentially alone with themselves, with almost no distraction. Of course the brunette knew why she was acting that way, and had no qualms about calling her on it, just like she’d always done. Some things never changed, and Alex was still Alex. Piper could count on that, on her, and she could only be thankful, because there really was nothing else keeping her grounded, instead of exploding all over the place, especially since she hadn’t yet been able to get through to Larry.

She slid lower on the bunk bed to get more comfortable, resting her head on Alex’s arm and reaching up to clasp her hand. The brunette, who was also half-lying on Tricia’s bed, with her back against the wall and her long legs stretched out before her, welcomed her against her body. She kissed Piper on the head and started playing with her fingers, lightly plucking them with her fingertips like the strings of a guitar. With her insides flooded by that sensation of warm, drunken wellbeing, the blonde was barely aware of their gratuitous, non-sexual touching; she didn’t know how long it had been going on -particularly in front of the others-, but it was now like second nature. She allowed to be lulled by those little, unconscious touches and the women’s low voices until she spotted movement through her half-closed eyelids.

“What’s going on?” Piper asked, shaking her head.

“Party’s over,” Nichols announced, as she sauntered towards her cube, followed by Morello.

“Something tells me we’re all gonna sleep like babies tonight,” Big Boo chuckled, and then pointed at Piper. “Well, that one’s already half asleep.”

“Come on kid, let’s get you to your bunk,” said Alex, pulling her to her feet.

“Yeah, you better go with her. The way she’s walking, she’s gonna give everything away,” said Big Boo, still pointing at Piper.

No matter how much she insisted on being fine, the brunette kept escorting her, even placing a hand on her shoulder when there were no guards around, as if she needed steadying.

“Admit it. This was a whole lot better than your memorial.”

“But we only got drunk.”

“Exactly.” The brunette raised her eyebrows and flashed her a wicked smile. “I haven’t forgotten that drinking makes you extra frisky.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“You mean you don’t wanna fool around?”

“We can’t.” Piper glanced around, wide-eyed, not willing to admit that she would’ve gone for it if it had been possible.


	6. Taste of Freedom

It had gotten to a point when she was no longer reminding herself that she needed to use her head more and her loins a great deal less - or not even just her loins; at that point, it was mainly her heart. Not that her brain wasn’t functional, but it seemed like the balance had teetered, and the fact that she was aware of it didn’t make it less true. She had allowed it to happen, and it hadn’t taken her all that long to reach that state. Jesus, just half a dozen quick fumbles inside a utility closet and she was already done for.

Human beings could get used to just about anything, couldn’t they? It was all about endurance, but she wasn’t interested in surviving by going through the motions, by becoming tame - anything but that. However, sticking her head out of the quicksand wasn’t that easy; there was a dry, bleak apathy trying to swallow her, which she was managing to fend off with those little instances of blinding brilliance with Piper. Moreover, even when they weren’t sharing the same space, Alex could feel the tingle of those sensations right under her skin, giving her life. The drawback was that they had become like extra breaths of oxygen - perhaps not vital, but addictive, given her unfailing attraction towards excitement. Which was the difference between living and the mere act of existing: while life was charged, existence was just plain dull.

Of course, that sounded all very fine and practical in her mind, calculated even, if not for the fact that she was dealing with Piper. She didn’t know what this thing was, but she was definitely not following a predetermined script, and it surely wasn’t a game, not when the yearning was so real, and Piper was her single weak spot.

Alex dealt the cards slowly, with her eyes fixed on the blonde woman sitting in front of her. There was really no way of pretending that they hadn’t been screwing each other’s brains out that same morning, particularly now that they weren’t in the company of others. They had tried to hide it, sure, by arriving to the cafeteria separately and that kind of thing, but that was clearly child’s play for Nichols and Morello, who had been experts on screwing around like monkeys all over that damn prison. Now it was just a matter of not getting caught in the act, which could very well happen if Piper didn’t learn to stop announcing her climaxes. It wasn’t the blonde’s fault, though, but of the limited options of fucking in a closet. With one hand resting on the little sink for balance and the other on the wall, the girl couldn’t really cover her mouth, could she?

The brunette smiled to herself with pride and what could only be defined as stupid, adolescent giddiness. There was also the feeling of wellbeing that came with release, the peculiar peace of mind that muddled one’s thoughts and only let them travel so far. Enjoying how unworried and serene she felt, Alex glanced down at her cards for a second. She was invaded by a flash of what had happened earlier, of what had happened next, of them quickly switching places, of her own hand grasping the edge of the sink for dear life while Piper ventured between her legs, of how Alex had thrown her head back and licked her own lips, which were still covered in Piper’s wetness, and how they had kissed afterwards, stumbling towards the door because there was no more time, but still needing that last taste of freedom.

Piper was looking at her like she was thinking about the same thing which, if they had been outside, would have made her tease the blonde into having another go at it. Impossible as it was, Alex chose to tease her about something else instead, because they were presently living in a universe where the highest, most life-affirming levels of passion cohabitated with urine-scented cards. That had depressed her before, seeing herself in such a place, surrounded by dim-witted, smelly idiots - not that they were all like that, but hey, she couldn’t just pretend that she hadn’t hit a low point for her in her life, after having travelled around the whole fucking globe and been powerful enough to do whatever the hell she wanted. And now… now she couldn’t even eat, or sleep, or shit out of certain times. Circumstances hadn’t really improved (how could they?), but she was now feeling considerably better. Well, at least she could always tease Piper about her ex-wife Crazy Eyes and her creepy mating rituals, right?

Giggling, Piper swatted her hand away when she tried to make her smell the cards, which in turn made Alex accuse her of trying to look at them, because that was of course the only way she’d ever been able to beat her at the game.

“Stop it!” cried the blonde, gently holding Alex’s hands against the table, and Alex stopped struggling and allowed it, since the slight touch had enough transporting powers to change both the playful tone and her shit-eating grin into something heavier. If she’d needed an easy way out, she would’ve blamed it on her neurons, which were still half-drunk on desire and acting like horny little shits, but Alex had never been one for kidding herself. And besides, Piper’s congealed smile as she glanced down at their joined hands told the story pretty loud and clear.

“It’s weird how normal this feels,” Piper said, cautiously letting go of her hands.

“What?” Touching? Having fun with each other? They hadn’t really talked about what they’d been doing. In fact, they hadn’t really talked about lots of things, which was understandable, since that would make those things inescapably real. That didn’t keep her from trying to make Piper talk, though, particularly during those shared moments of intimacy.

“I feel like I’m twenty-three and no time has passed.”

While Piper’s face expressed wonder, like that of an explorer who had discovered an old, forbidden secret, Alex almost shrugged. What did she expect? It was what it was and, if once it had been strong enough to make them insane and throw them off their feet, it would do it again because it was all still there. She didn’t shrug, though, because this was Piper communicating -perhaps even needing Alex to break it down for her-, instead of coming up with a safer, logically-sounding explanation by default.

“Well… I think that… when you have a connection with someone, it never really goes away, you know? You snap back to being important to each other because you still are.”

“But I’ve changed so much since we were together, haven’t you?” Piper said, after a pause.

“No… no… not really. I’m pretty consistent. “Alex chuckled, not doubting for a second that Piper had indeed changed a lot -a lot of times, even-, but those had been superficial alterations, she was sure, like switching hats, and that Piper’s core remained untouched, no matter what she claimed.

“Can I ask you something?” requested the blonde.

The sudden change of topic threw her off a little bit, but it was in her nature to never be a hundred percent unguarded, so that there always remained a part of her out of reach, just in case. You never knew when life -or someone- could blow up in your face, did you? And right here, right now, she needed to keep at least a tiny degree of distance for protection.

In her most serene, mentally-sound moments, something told her that she was playing with fire. Although that little voice was getting increasingly harder to hear, there were instances when Piper would go from one thing to a completely different one without warning, as if she had a set of sliding panels mounted inside her head: she could go from giggling and chattering with her to wanting her advice on whatever problem she was having with her fucking fiancé, and that was kind of worrisome. Alex did her best to keep her cool, and it wasn’t like she didn’t see what Piper was going through, and that she was the only one the blonde could talk to - incidentally, the person she was having an affair with, even if Piper was not calling it an affair. But this wasn’t easy for the blonde either, and Alex couldn’t really help wanting to take care of her.

 

 

 

* * *

 

The blonde looked very cute with her triumphant, smug expression, like a dog expecting a treat, and Alex felt so relieved to learn that Caputo had only punished her with janitorial duty that she could do nothing to hide her cheerfulness. Fuck it, she felt like a celebratory cuddle was in order. Although Piper seemed reluctant about their proximity out in the open, there was no real danger.

“Come be my little spoon,” she coaxed her, stroking the empty space beside her. That was enough to lure Piper into her cube and onto her bunk. Her bunk sans her mattress, of course, since who knew what those fucking meth heads had done with it. Sleeping, which was the most basic, most ordinary thing one could do in prison, was now quite an ordeal thanks to them. The powerlessness of having her scarce possessions stolen and broken had made her livid. She’d swallowed up a surge of hot, humiliating tears and had focused on getting her revenge -which was the only feeling resembling satisfaction one could aspire to obtain here-, but not if Piper was going to pay for it.

With the blonde lying down next to her, though, Alex could now relax. She moved her hand up and down Piper’s arm, stroking it slowly, realizing that it was the first time in many years that they had been like this.

It looked like Piper was stepping up, gradually owning up to her shit, little by little admitting stuff, like saying that their time together had been real, that it had been her life, which was kind of amazing, for it was maybe the thing which had hurt her the most, the ease with which Piper had shrugged off the significance of their relationship. She had also admitted that they were indeed having an affair, and now she was even taking hits for the both of them.

“Hey, I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah?”

Alex combed Piper’s hair behind her ear. “Yeah. It was really brave. I mean, it was dumb…” she kissed the back of the blonde’s neck, above her tattoo. “But brave.”

Piper rolled around to face her, wide-eyed, with the most open of expressions, and Alex only gazed at her in awe. This was one of those times in which it dawned on her how incredible it was that they had ended up like this again.

“You know… I don’t think that anyone has ever used that word to describe me in the history of the universe.”

“I’m glad we have each other in here, kid,” she said, not daring to proclaim more, keeping that tiny realm of protection in which calling her “kid” was endearing but still safe.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I’d rather be on a beach in Tahiti, but this is a… close second.” The blonde squinted her eyes, briefly resorting to humor, then immediately becoming serious. “Why do you always feel so inevitable to me?”

That did it. This was Piper not really asking, but telling her something, because there was no answer to that question, at least not one that could be enounced with words. The only answer was everything that had happened between them from the very beginning, because Alex had already considered them inevitable back at Indonesia -way, way back-, but the confirmation had come, no matter how late, and it felt like everything had come full circle, and it was almost unbearable.

“I heart you,” she said, feeling like her insides were overflowing.

“You heart me?”

“Yeah.” Alex giggled at her own choice of words.

“What is that, is that like ‘I love you’ for pussies?”

It was. It really was. But they were back on safe terrain now, and so Alex kept giggling, and got closer to Piper. “Say ‘pussy’ again.”

The blonde smiled again, and it sent the entire world into oblivion. Alex reached out to cup her cheek and kissed her. It was gentle, without the hurry and desperation they’d been usually haunted by here in prison. In some ways, it felt like they were kissing each other for the first time, but at the same time, it couldn’t have happened without all the other things which had happened before.

As she pulled away for fear of becoming too overwhelmed, Piper grasped her hand. She was still looking at her with that expression of wonder, of discovery.

“I heart you too.”

During their past time together there had been times when Alex had been able to tell that they’d been thinking and feeling the same things at the same time -synchronized-, but many times they obviously hadn’t. Years ago, that asynchronicity of theirs had been on the back of her mind, bugging her, morphing into an intermittent pang in her stomach, into a barely realized fear of losing Piper. Now, it felt like they were on the same page. However fleeting, it felt like they were together. And for the moment it was a lot; it was enough.


	7. Taking In Water

The events after Larry’s radio show originated her second internal avalanche, so to speak. Just before tuning in, her immediate concern had been if Alex would be okay to listen to this with her, which she’d appeared to be, and then Piper had scrambled for her imaginary remote control, with her mind still slow-working after the moment of connection they’d just shared. It hadn’t been that easy to change the channel this time. Then, the actual show had started, and the way in which Larry had recounted the tidbits about the other inmates Piper had given him during his visitations had made her cringe. He had skimmed through the surface with very little understanding, and called them “cast of characters”. Those women were definitely not a bunch of facetious, singled-out traits; they were very, very real. And, after the initial offense -because Larry had made them into characters just like he’d made her into someone else in his famous article-, Piper had worried about how some of them would react. She’d hoped no one would try to prove to her how real they were.

She nevertheless forgot all about that a minute later, when he spoke about betrayal, about having someone in there with her who could have a better understanding of what she was going through. He knew about her and Alex. Somehow, he knew, and Piper suddenly understood why Larry hadn’t been answering her calls - something which, honestly, had just pushed her more in the dark-haired woman’s direction. She felt as if the ground had opened up under her feet and she was being sucked into an endless tunnel. No. No. As the earphone plopped out of her ear, the off-putting, ever-present noises of the place leaked in once more. She needed to stop this, and believed she could, if only because she _had_ to.

Everyone’s eyes were on her in the cafeteria, whether it was to glare at her or whisper about her. It seemed important not to lose her poker face and not rush to her table, where Alex, Nichols, and Morello were saving her a seat. The brunette briefly placed a hand on her shoulder, a sort of “You’re okay” gesture, which was all she could do to make it better, but then Miss Claudette rushed in, whom Piper had never seen so upset, and she didn’t know what to tell her to fix it. What could she say, that it was a thing of the past? She had indeed been afraid of her, but a person could get used to anything - over time, one could even put it out of one’s mind it, become bunk buddies, and forget about how she had blabbered her first impressions. Unable to keep up with everything that was happening, she was lost for words, but still needed to talk to Larry. This time, when she lifted the phone and dialed, her call was accepted.

Of course he went straight to asking about sex, if she had slept with Alex, and if she was still doing it. Piper could only admit the truth and, for a second, she had to distance herself from what was happening because it was just too surreal, and because the barriers separating the different currents of her life were now taking in water, so that Larry’s words were now echoing through the walls of the prison and Piper’s actions in prison had somehow gotten to Larry - “somehow” meaning that bastard Healy.

Piper narrowed her eyes, wondering if he actually understood the repercussions of what he’d done. “So this is your revenge? Trying to get me killed?”

“Wait, wait, so… so _you’re_ the victim in all of this?”

“They’re just people, Larry. They’re just women who are trying to do their best, and you made them sound like… like they were…”

“Criminals?”

“Jesus! Who are you?” As if the actual distance between them wasn’t enough, it now felt as if they were yelling at each other in different languages, trying to get their messages across a widening gap. She could hear the intermittent noises of the city on the other side of the phone, the traffic, the piteous honking, and they appeared otherworldly to her, nothing like the gentler but constant buzz of the prison.

Larry barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Can’t believe- You’re, you’re the one asking _me_ that right now? I-I can’t believe that… No, actually, actually, actually of course I can. I totally can, because, because God forbid I would get to dictate the conversation… ever.”

That made her furious, because he just couldn’t understand, could he, how the external silence affected someone who was behind bars. What else did they really have to go on? He also seemed incapable of understanding the opposite: the magnified effects of any piece of information that did get leaked inside the prison. She had done a really shitty thing, yes, but it wasn’t that incomprehensible, was it? And it didn’t automatically absolve him, so she barked back.

“There hasn’t been any conversation to dictate, Larry! You haven’t picked up the phone in over a week! Do you have any idea what it has been like in here for me? Do you have any idea how lonely I’ve been?”

“Lonely! Lonely, really, you- you’ve been lonely, huh? That’s… okay, that’s interesting because, you know, I just assumed you were okay because you have Alex now!” There was a pause. “Do you love her?”

Which was the main issue to elucidate here, wasn’t it? Before sleeping with Alex, during a previous conversation with Larry at a particularly depressing moment, she recalled asking him whether he considered her a narcissist or a horse’s ass - things Alex had called her while stuck in the dryer. He had said “Of course not”, but he had been the one who had written an article about someone who was supposed to be her but didn’t feel like her, and then she hadn’t been able to open the dryer, being forced to listen to Alex spewing out her own versions. She had gravitated back to the brunette after that phone call, of course, because she was there, and because it had felt like Alex could actually open her up effortlessly and see what was inside, and tell her about it. Because she didn’t know anymore. She had embodied by choice what once had been her costume until it stopped being a disguise, until it became her life, an unequivocally safe life, devoid of ugly surprises, because _that_ life she could control… or maybe not. It had come to a point where she couldn’t tell if this was her or if she had been compromised by the conditions of her new habitat.

Those were unspeakable things she couldn’t fully express, so her first reaction was to try to get out of that situation.

“No, that’s… it’s… it’s… It’s difficult…” Piper muttered, struggling to express that it wasn’t like that, no, that it was… What was it? Survival, yes. But those words could only come from someone with their shit together, and she most definitely did _not_ have her shit together. Oh, to be an evil fuck-monster… that would’ve been so much easier; that wouldn’t have hurt so much.

“Do you love her?” he asked again, his voice high-pitched with distress.

Sex numbed the pain, obviously, but it certainly wouldn’t have happened without a previous spark, and sex brought something else apart from plain, placid contentment; it brought out other things, old things, things that used to be habits, things so well engrained on the back on her mind and on the back of her heart that they functioned like instincts. It brought out new things as well, which was scarier, and which made themselves at home with dangerous ease. She knew what that instinct was, that thing which couldn’t be reasoned with because it was too determined and too primal for words.

“Yes,” she answered, listening to Larry’s distraught breathing, and choking up herself.

With neither of them attempting to close that breach between them, silence took over. Piper didn’t know what to say - not that there was anything she could say. Then, out of nowhere, came Larry’s voice, so full of spite that it was practically unrecognizable.

“She named you, you know.”

The entire world seemed to screech to a halt during several seconds, even Piper herself, with her mouth open and a tear hanging from her eyelashes. In the center of her mind, which was barely active, stood a big, terrible “Why?” blinking like a red alert.

“She’s the whole _fucking_ reason you’re in there,” Larry went on. “How does it feel, to be in love with the woman who ruined our lives?”

“You gotta let me fix this,” she said, after he told her that he needed some time _away_ from her, which would’ve been laughable if it had been a joke. She was thinking in terms of time and borders, of how buying herself a little time would build a little fence - a short barrier of safety in which she’d be able to catch her breath and figure out what to do.

“I don’t know if you can,” he responded, and ended the call, leaving her with all the time in the world and making her feel more imprisoned than ever.

So Alex had lied to her, and Larry had also lied, and yet Piper sensed this pressure about her, coming at her from every front, commanding her to do what was right - but what _was_ right, and how could she choose, if nobody was willing to tell her the goddamn truth?

 

* * *

 

Apparently, the right thing didn’t matter one bit, not in the scheme of things… There _was_ no scheme of things and, as far as she was concerned, there was no right thing either. She had tried and she had just ended up being shunned, which was roughly the same result as when she had cheated and wronged. So, no difference, really. Hadn’t she already discovered that during her revealing visit to the SHU?

There was no use in getting furious either. To the brunette’s surprise, Piper had barely skimmed through her big secret -that she had indeed named her after all- and, even though she could’ve easily kept quiet about it, she’d just wanted Alex to know that she knew. But of course, Alex couldn’t let things be; she had never been able to do that. She would only be satisfied once she’d managed to force Piper into acknowledgement. That was how it used to work in the past and how the brunette was trying to play things now.

She had tried to smile and keep her voice level while Alex had teased her, trying to provoke her like she’d always done, with her hands, with her voice, with her lips so close to her ear, but when squirming away from her touch and gently pushing her away hadn’t worked, Piper snapped. Like a torn cable that would start sputtering out hot sparks if someone touched her, she attacked, no longer keeping her anger safe, enclosed, and separate. It broke through every barrier and flooded her insides until the real question came out, a question surprisingly devoid of fury and full of hurt, because their story had taken place a very long time ago and yet Alex hadn’t wished to let her live her life - the nice, simple, and safe life she had managed to construct away from that black-haired woman and her alluring danger.

“Why did you do it?”

And how on earth was she supposed to reconcile the rancor of feeling cheated, of knowing that she would have evaded prison if Alex hadn’t given her up, with the completely infuriating -and yet inevitable- feeling of love running through her veins like a torrent?


	8. Agape

Her body was not her temple - least of all in here. Here, her body was her weapon, her only weapon, and perhaps it had always been like that to some extent. She had used her own appeal and physicality frequently enough before, for her job, and even with Piper, both at the very beginning and when things had crumbled between them. Circumstances were presently much more extreme, and yet she hadn’t hesitated in sending her body to battle, to different battles, because at the moment it had been the perfect tool to threaten and humiliate Pennsatucky. And now, it was all she had to get a rise out of Piper.

She found the blonde in the kitchen, poking at a toaster with her screwdriver and in all probability failing at fixing it. Alex would’ve mentioned their old toaster back home again, which Piper had annihilated beyond help, and which she had kept around like a weird memento. Mentioning tidbits from their common past was a way of connection with the other, of hoping that the cute, warm, passionate, or funny memory would drive them closer. It was like having some sort of mental power over the other person - the ability to make them emotional without their consent. It set them apart from almost every other inmate, and they were both guilty of using it. However, this wasn’t the right moment for that.

It was time to jumpstart Piper, because Alex wasn’t swallowing her “I’m over it” shtick. After checking out that they were quite alone, she sprung into action, starting with a very informal offer to fuck in the pantry. She could feel the blonde’s body flinching away from her touch and from her words, which needed to be increasingly outrageous to break through all the bullshit. Because Piper was a great builder of smokescreens, and maybe her fucking boyfriend couldn’t see past them, but Alex’s modus operandi was fighting fire with fire, especially if something hurt; you had to bite back.

“This is not fine!” Piper finally cried out, distancing herself from Alex.

“Good. Now we can talk about it.”

The picture of what Piper had been doing was getting clearer in her mind, but of course she wasn’t going to wallow in her pain. Fuck that, even though everything hurt save for that tiny corner inside her she had learned to protect, the part of her she had kept safe and untouched by the terrifyingly easy surrender. And she was glad, because thanks to it she was able to tell it like it was - that Piper was full of shit. Alex even smiled, because although the joke was on her for allowing Piper to get to her once more, the blonde was the real casualty here; she was so full of shit she didn’t even know. But that was okay, because Alex was there to inform her…

“Fuck you!” was the blonde’s emphatic response, shoving her twice with surprising strength. “Fuck you, Alex! You want me to be angry? Well guess what, I’m really _fucking_ angry. Because I love you, Alex.”

The brunette merely stood there, lips slightly agape like she was ready to say something, but blocked and unable to retort, and hating it too, because since when hadn’t she been able to do that? For all her eloquence, she was presently too stunned; she hadn’t expected Piper to go all out, not when they had been walking the tightrope between being thankful for the other’s support in prison and getting entangled in old feelings and new feelings, not when the picture told her that she was being used.

“I love you and I _fucking hate you_! I have really been trying to keep my shit together, but if you really need to see me Hulk out over this…” Piper pushed her again, finally slamming her against the metal fence.

Alex looked away for a second, wondering why the hell she was the one being cornered right now, as if Piper hadn’t lied. And yes, she had that tiny safe spot fueling her anger, but the rest of her hurt like hell.

“Larry left you. Didn’t he?” she asked, before the blonde could effectively walk away. “And that is why you’re fake-fine with me.”

Evidently, Piper would have never resorted to that gimmick if she hadn’t lost her safety net. It was all but human, Alex guessed, but there was no use in playing the “human” card with her, not when she was the one getting punked. And Piper’s silence only confirmed that she was right, that she was seeing the picture correctly: Piper would overlook anything, provided that she wasn’t alone, which in turn made Alex… what, a fucking binky for her to suck on and then throw away when she didn’t need it anymore, ultimately disposable?

“Look at me,” she said, because the blonde couldn’t even meet her eye.

When she did, albeit reluctantly, she went straight to asking Alex why she’d done it, which wasn’t that big of a mystery. They’d offered her less time for everyone she gave them, and Piper was a big, fat nobody in the business - there had been no risk in sending her to prison. That was a very thought-out, rationalized view of the events, when the real winner had been the brunette’s impulsive side. It had been more like a big “fuck you” message with Piper’s name on it - “fuck you for abandoning me and breaking my fucking heart” with a cherry on top. And it hadn’t been _that_ difficult, because by the time they arrested her, the blonde girl she had loved was little more than a shadow, a memory cloaked by her own little recipe for oblivion, and a cautionary tale for herself. It was when she saw her again that everything she’d considered lost had come tumbling back, like a phantom limb syndrome, and she’d been weak, she had lied.

Who had screwed the other person worst was a matter of debate, then, but she wasn’t going to get into that, because nothing -none of it- had been fair. They’d been screwing each other figuratively while they’d been doing it literally, and that just made it all increasingly confusing, because Alex couldn’t help but probe, while not feeling particularly proud of herself -although not to the point of being sorry-, and then there remained that powerful instinct to remain close to Piper, wanting to be liked by her like she once had been.

 

* * *

 

After looking for her all over the place, Alex finally found the blonde in the library, sitting at one of the tables, with a pile of thick volumes before her. That was suspicious enough to set off her alarms, if her alarms hadn’t been ringing already, which they were, since she had waited for Piper in the utility closet and she hadn’t showed up. And now this weird picture.

“Well if it isn’t the invisible woman.”

Something was definitely very wrong, and one didn’t even need to be a good observer to notice it, but Alex had already taken the plunge, and couldn’t simply stop mid-fall. She had allowed herself to hope, unleashed that particular monster of hers which had pained her so badly in the past, and given it permission to roam freely once again. So even if her survival instinct was telling her to watch out, to cloak her fear with humor, she felt uncommonly delicate, like a walking open wound.

As she approached the table, she noticed that Piper had frozen upon seeing her. It wasn’t like Alex hadn’t expected her to be freaked out after all the recent changes -she had always understood Piper’s situation, and had been there for her-, so that was kind of normal, she guessed. And yet there was this nagging, unsystematic sensation of wrongness. It had been a very long time since she had felt that peculiar mixture of hope and fear; it was akin to watching a car crash: one could do nothing but let it unfold, and all the screaming and crying was completely futile.

“One intense talk about the future and you disappear on me,” she said, sitting down next to her. “Not a shocker, but… I had gotten my hopes up.”

Piper remained serious, unresponsive, leaving Alex with an intermittent pang in the mouth of her stomach. She was being careful around the blonde, reassuring, so why wasn’t she reassuring her back? Because… Because. In that instant, she became aware, even before Piper opened her mouth. And hadn’t she actually sensed before that, like some kind of instinct in the shape of a terrible anticipation?

“I’m getting married,” Piper said, and Alex pursed her lips together, thus leaving her hope-monster without oxygen, choking it to death.

 


	9. Here

Just when she believed she was beginning to get a hang on the innumerable boundaries and directives of the place -both official and unofficial-, this had happened, and she definitely wanted no part in such a potential shitstorm. Different work details were not supposed to mingle -that was an official rule-, and so they were now dealing with the consequences, like a bad karma.

While she had left in search of new batteries for her flashlight, that religious nut had somehow locked Alex inside the dryer, and Piper’s very finite mechanical knowledge was no match for whatever she had done. So why was the brunette being so obtuse all of a sudden? She should have known better than to provoke someone like Pennsatucky, and yet, knowing Alex, it was just her way, since she could never resist a challenge. Not that Piper could presume to know her after such a long time being apart, but she didn’t seem to have changed a lot in that respect. Unfortunately, Piper had realized that she felt drawn to that permanence of Alex’s - whether it was due to its familiarity or because any sense of constancy was kind of attractive while being stuck in such a place, she wasn’t sure.

That didn’t mean, however, that she was going to shut up and dutifully stand the brunette’s merciless attack, especially when she was somehow extrapolating her inability to unblock the dryer’s door with her supposed incapacity to what, face her shit? Their first proper conversation in years and Alex was using it to throw daggers at her, of course, but she didn’t have to put up with being shouted to step the fuck up. Besides, with or without manual, she had no idea of what she was doing, and so she started walking away.

“Wait! Piper, where are you going?”

“I’m just gonna go-”

“No!” Alex cried out. “Don’t you go. Don’t you fucking leave me!”

Piper stopped at once, feeling as though she had been hit with a different kind of dagger, because Alex’s voice wasn’t angry but distraught, because it had been years since she’d listened to that tone, and the last she’d heard from the brunette had been very similar words: Alex pleading her not to leave. If there was something she felt sorry for during all the comings and goings of their relationship, it had to be leaving her in that Paris apartment when her mother had just died. Not that she would’ve acted any differently if she was given another chance, because making that decision had probably been the hardest thing she had ever done, and if she hadn’t broken away from Alex then and there, if she had stayed with her for the funeral and whatnot, Piper wasn’t sure (not even now) that she would’ve been able to make up her mind again. That would’ve been the end of her.

This now was Alex feeling like she was about to be left alone by her again -“abandoned”, as the brunette had eloquently put it during her completely purposeful A.A. speech-, and again unable to do anything about it - this time because she had been enclosed inside a dryer. Although Piper couldn’t presently see her face, she could clearly visualize her expression in Paris, and it was more than enough to make her turn around. She sighed heavily, because somehow, here she was again, but she wasn’t going to run away.

“Okay,” she said, more to herself than to the brunette, retracing her steps.

“Okay what?” Alex asked, her voice still dipped in that particular density, and not just because it was coming out muffled by the dryer.

Realizing that Alex couldn’t see her, the blonde got closer and bent down before the little, round window, leveling her face with the brunette’s. She didn’t want to hear that tinge of desperation ever again, knowing that she had been the one to cause it.

“I’m here,” Piper said, gently. And she was, and she could tell that the other woman knew that she meant it, even though she composed herself at once, quickly adjusting her glasses and glancing away.

 

* * *

 

 

Pausing before the small window next to the stairs, Piper squinted until the metal fence covering the glass disappeared and she could look at the barren scenery without it - a mere optical illusion, of course. There were generally lots of inmates huddled in front of that window just before visiting hours, because from there they could see their families or their friends arriving. Conversely, it was also a great vantage point to watch the women getting released. It was the closest thing to a gateway to the outside world.

She guessed that there were all sorts of strategies to pretend that one still possessed a scrap of control in such a place, in addition to a great number of tricks to bring a little bit of freedom into those walls. Illusory as they were, you could hardly blame someone for trying, could you? That didn’t mean that she had disregarded Alex’s concern of being nothing more than a binky, because she was much more than that, even though they had certainly been using each other to survive, or leaning on each other - and many other things, apart from leaning. It wasn’t even just the physical side of it; it was also the vicarious flirting which had been going on before sleeping together and which had continued after that, giving her something to look forward to, a long-lost teenage giddiness.

Her own anger had blinded her, because the brunette had lied about naming her, and Piper had only learned about it when it was already too late - already in love again, already needy of her. What she had indeed disregarded was that Alex was still Alex not just for the good things, but for this too. She was no stranger to the brunette’s obliterating survival instinct, but hadn’t she done the same thing, holding out on information? By refraining from telling Alex that Larry had asked for time and space -surely a death sentence-, she had naïvely intended to maintain the status quo, when that was completely impossible. They had both tried to steer the other in this or that direction and, although she considered it understandable -considering their habitat and their circumstances-, it hadn’t been the right approach.

The good thing was that they wouldn’t be able to do that anymore even if they were tempted to, Piper mused, as she paced towards Alex’s block, as she had done plenty of times. It was her own particular walk of shame, she noted wryly, and it was mostly to backtrack about something - in this case, everything.

“You were right. About Larry, you were right. I think that I’ve lost him.” She asked for permission to sit beside Alex on the bed and the brunette gestured her consent. “So all of my cards are on the table. Everything. I’m an emotionally manipulative narcissist who bailed on you when your mother died.”

“And I’m a ruthless pragmatist who sold you out and then lied about it,” Alex retorted, then paused. “We suck.”

But they both knew everything; that was a good thing, right? Nothing could erase the fact that she had deserted Alex in the worst possible moment, just like nothing could prevent Alex from having named her and then pretending that she hadn’t to get close to her, but now they could avert the bullshit. For the first time since their reencounter, there was a blank page before them; they were not chained to replaying the ins and outs of their memories. Wasn’t that kind of a big relief?

The brunette sighed and placed her glasses on top of her head. “My God, Piper, I’m getting whiplash here.”

“I’m not fucking with you,” Piper said, which was important to establish, but she also had to know what was going to happen when they got out of prison. If she was to place her life in Alex’s hands again, she needed some reassurance. The brunette, however, first shrugged and then tried to be funny, and when Piper asked her if she was going to get a job like a regular person, she made a face, as if the mere suggestion was the most excruciating thing ever - which it probably was for Alex, someone who was capable of talking about her heroin-moving past with endearing nostalgia.

Still needing some verbal confirmation, Piper told her that all she knew was that she was never ever going back to prison. There were a whole lot of things she was never going to repeat, in fact.

“Listen, I’m not planning on going back to doing illegal shit! I’m not planning anything. I don’t know what’s gonna happen! And that’s the point of _being_ with me. If you wanna have babies and remodel your bathroom, then please, go, do, nest. If you wanna do X on a beach in Cambodia with three strangers in drag…” Alex stopped gesticulating, sat back, and smiled. “I’m not saying it’s gonna happen, but… it could.”

Piper smiled at the mere mention of Cambodia, and also because of Alex’s smug, charming self. Indeed, anything could happen, and that possibility made the vertigo very real, but it was deceivingly easy to be entranced, right here, right now. She recalled the early sensation of wonder, and how everything had been so simple, so effortless. Not that she was naïve enough to believe that she was going to revert to that Piper again, with all her innocence; she wasn’t, and shouldn’t. What she believed in was that unique, warm feeling of wellbeing which Alex was continuously able to evoke, even in that hostile place. And she knew better than anyone the things which the brunette was capable of doing outside - she could do anything.

“I love Cambodia,” she said, meaning both Cambodia and Alex, seeing and remembering both as an entwined radiance.

“Me too.”

As Alex reached for her hand and their gazes merged, Piper found that her mind didn’t flicker. Her concentration stayed, and her thoughts were of Alex. She caressed her fingers and her heart believed, and kept on believing, as the seconds rolled by. And, although she knew that her reality was as fragile as a frozen bubble in the snow, it was genuine, and wished to survive, which was a different sort of innocence.


	10. Spinning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter, at least until the second season comes out (and who knows what will happen there, right?); when it does, I'll decide whether I go on with this or whether I should start a new story. As always, thanks for reading!

“I love you, too. But we both know I don’t have the guts to freefall through life with you.”

“No, you don’t.”

How could she ever have believed otherwise? The truth was that Piper had had a fiancé since before she had set foot in that prison, so why inform her that she was getting married? Alex had challenged her to say what she really meant by that, and now she had an inkling that Piper had been given an ultimatum; everything -including the blonde’s proclaimed “I pick him”-, pointed towards it. The blonde had gravitated back to her when she’d thought she’d lost Larry, because she’d had no other choice. However, Alex sensed that the guy had used the marriage card -marriage or nothing-, and Piper of course had leaped at once towards solid ground.

The weight that people attributed to a piece of paper was dumbfounding, as if it could create a pair of shackles around the other person’s wrists, but that was another matter. The important thing was that, if given a choice, the blonde would take the easy way out -the road to security- every single time, which meant that Alex and her unscripted future would never be considered a real option. Not having the balls to do something was just the scapegoat way of saying that one didn’t want it enough. That feeling of rejection burned inside and made her eyes sting, but it also shook that protected fragment of her into wakefulness, and that part of her was pure spiteful responsiveness. She wanted nothing to do with Piper. She wouldn’t let her get close enough to risk getting hurt by the blonde ever again, because that woman was like the radiating waves of an explosion, an explosion which had originated many years ago, but it nevertheless kept generating ripples.

Not that Piper was a vampire, someone who consciously went around deceiving other people and ruining their lives, but she _was_ fucked up, and that fucked-up-ness of hers had consequences. Like a malfunctioning traffic light, one tried to follow its confusing, ever-changing signals but one only ended up crashing and burning.

“At least I made a decision, right?” Piper said, almost smiling. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

“Piper…” Alex shook her head and breathed out a tiny, incredulous laugh. She was about to tell her everything that was ridiculous and wrong with that statement and that question, as would be her custom, but she stopped herself. No. Of course Piper knew that it was bullshit, or she wouldn’t have smiled. She knew, and she was still doing it. Besides, Alex wasn’t going to explain a damn thing anymore. She was done. There was just… “Fuck you.”

Perhaps she had been wrong all those years ago, presuming to really know who that blonde woman was and what she had truly wanted. She’d believed that she’d seen the core of Piper’s being during their travels, at her most alive, climbing a mountain or swimming in the sea, huddled next to her in front of a volcano, crawling into a sleeping bag with her and letting her touch the wick of her soul. Maybe she had been wrong more recently as well, thinking that they were very slowly moving forwards instead of in circles, but the supposedly straight line leading to a shared future had only ended up being another curve, another spin.

Alex felt completely stupid for having allowed herself a glimmer of hope, but she couldn’t allow it to drag her down like it had done before. Just like with any other compulsion, she had been an absolute fool to believe herself capable of remaining in control, but she had already kicked an addiction before, and she could do it again. Thankfully, she had her survival instinct to take care of her, and this was just a reminder of precisely why her own endurance needed to come first.

 

* * *

 

 In no mood for the Christmas pageant, Alex leaned against the short wall of her cube, with the pillow behind her back. Just about everyone had gone down to the chapel, stupid and childish as pageants were, since any kind of diversion was welcome. She glanced at the book she was balancing on her knee, tired of having read the same sentence about thirty times and having not yet understood it. So now she wasn’t even able to read, which was very annoying, as was this dumb, sporadic urge to cry.

Nichols had been her own distraction earlier, and vice versa, and a very welcome one at that. She had needed the pleasure, the seconds of complete oblivion, and the bubbly subsequent sensation. There had been no thoughts for a while, no pain, and none of those bothersome waves of sadness, even though Nichols had witnessed several of them already. She was the closest thing to a friend she had in that fucking hellhole, and it was easy to act naturally around her, while remaining as detached and subdued as necessary around the other inmates. They seemed to share a sardonic sense of humor and a certain instinctual understanding without needing to tell each other their sob stories, which weren’t such a big mystery anyway. There was something else they shared; they had each been discarded by an engaged, straight girl.

Piper had burst her bubble of pleasantness, though, calling her name and marching towards her while Nichols was still sitting next to her on her bunk. Alex had told her to get fucking lost and, with Nichols’s contribution, she had effectively sent her packing with her tail between her legs. She did not know what the blonde had wanted to say to her, although it didn’t really matter, since the ditch between her and Piper was now in place, and it would hold, just like Alex hadn’t lowered her eyes until the blonde had turned to leave, even though the sight of Piper’s distraught expression was now engraved in her mind. The appearance of strength was as important as strength itself, _and_ the necessary beginning of said strength.

One could speculate that Piper had had trouble with the fiancé, that Alex had ruffled Larry’s feathers a bit by giving him a taste of the truth. Maybe he had started doubting that getting married would mark the end of their troubles; the poor guy had been nursing the absurd hope that marriage would make Piper feel more his, which was atrociously similar to Piper’s desperate groping for security.  It was funny, really, that now that she didn’t have to go after Piper calling her on her bullshit, she was telling her boyfriend what was what. She hadn’t been able to help herself, though, because she was not going to stand being blamed for playing games or casting some kind of spell on Piper, not after being jerked around. She wouldn’t survive another spin on her merry-go-round, and so there would be no more spinning.

Now there was just her sentence, there was just her time. She leafed through the book, trying to remember what had happened previously before reattempting to read it, when suddenly, she heard what sounded like an underwater commotion, muffled as it was by the thick walls of the block. What the hell was going on? Had someone stolen fucking Baby Jesus from the manger? Alex tossed the book away and stood up, instinctively searching for a window…


End file.
